Archeon Academy
by DeltaBlairLines
Summary: (High school AU) I came here to keep my head low and graduate. An escape from my miserable town and some real education. That's all I wanted! That's all I should want. But living among the Silver gods of Norta...is it such a crime to want more? See, feel, and be more? I was warned about this. I was dumb to think I could escape unscratched. After all, power is a dangerous game.
1. Who I May Become (Mare)

As a current high schooler, I felt it was my duty to mash together the glorious mess that is the 21rst century high school experience and throw the RQverse into it. Everyone's age is knocked down a year or two from the beginning of Red Queen, just because junior year is the most eventful in American high schools and what's a story without some drama? Also thank you to everyone who expressed their interest in this fic! You guys don't know how much it means to me.

Characters are slightly OOC as a result of their upbringings changing in accordance to the time and culture shift.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Red Queen series by Victoria Aveyard or any of the characters involved in this story unless stated otherwise.

* * *

In very simple words, let me break down my scenario for you: I'm fucked. 

Now, in more complex words:

Archeon Academy is a highly prestigious school. It's rich, it's got some amazing programs, its alumni has _two_ former presidents in it, and the students are all either geniuses, kids of billionaires, or both.

 _I_ am a sixteen year old girl from the Stilts, a once okay town that got wrecked by an earthquake not long after I was born. Now everyone there, including my family, is lower middle class to dirt poor, and it _definitely_ doesn't have any geniuses. 

My entire life, we've coexisted without any problem. I made fun of the academy with Kilorn and the rest of the kids at school, but that was about as close as I thought I'd ever get to it. Shiny silver kids from shiny silver families with shiny silver spoons in their mouths. It was easy to write them off as a distant fantasy, in our conditions.

Or at least it was all up until recently, when my mom got a promotion to work in finance for one of those shiny silver families' corporations and we moved over to the suburbs of the busy cultural hub of Archeon.

Which, of course, puts me in just the right spot to attend Archeon Academy.

I won't lie to myself. If I had stayed in the Stilts, I would have wasted away like the rest of that town. The same people, same jobs, same desperation and resignation. It's an awful, stagnant place. If I want any shot at success, I had to leave at some point. I also know that I've always secretly wanted to escape that muddy town of thieves and bums.

So I won't lie to myself and say I don't need Archeon Academy. Because I do. And the Stilts taught me all I needed I know all about prioritizing my needs before my wants.

That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it though.

"Now, Archeon is home to a couple distinct mega corporations, but most importantly, there is the Calore dynasty. You know Norta Inc., right?" I snorted.

"How could I not, Farley? They're everywhere."

"So you know exactly how powerful they are?"

" _Yes_ , I know."

"And you know you're going to be in the same grade as a Calore?"

"What?" Farley presses her fingers to the sides of her temples and sighs. I know my laptop screen doesn't do her exasperation justice.

"You're telling me that you're starting school tomorrow and you didn't think to check who you might be dealing with?" I shrug sheepishly.

"I had to do the summer assignment."

"Right." Her expression sours. Farley attended Archeon Academy a couple years ago. As the daughter of an esteemed general, it was the only place anybody expected her to go, and she complained the entire time she was there. Luckily, though, as my brother's girlfriend and honorary Barrow, it means she can pass on her tips and tricks to me.

"So. The Calore?"

"Mhm. Maven Calore. You shouldn't really have to worry about him. The last charity ball I went to was two years ago, and he seemed like a polite kid. But you never know with these preppy Silvers, and since he's set to be heir to Whisper Corp, he has more potential to be a snake than nearly anyone else there. These people were raised on manipulation tactics and social grace." She pauses and scowls. "For example, Ptolemus."

I laugh with her. My expression quickly dissolves into an amused grin.

"I can't believe you ever dated that douchebag."

"I was young and dumb, he was rich and admittedly hot. It's all over now, though. Let's not dwell on him. How about we talk about his sister, instead?"

"What do I need to know about her for?" I frown. Farley just stares at me for a minute.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"Mare Barrow, you are _hopeless_." She leans back in her chair and muffles a moan of frustration "She's in your grade, too! Samos girl? She's always on Viper Magazine covers? Has cheekbones so sharp they could cut down trees?"

"Cheekbone girl?" I gasp.

"Yeah, cheekbone girl!"

"I'm going to school with _cheekbone girl?!_ "

"What the hell are you two talking about?" A familiar voice calls from the background.

Farley rolls her eyes, flicks some blonde hair out of her face, and rotates her laptop to show my favorite brother stepping into the room with damp hair and a towel around his shoulders.

"Shade!" I scold. "You haven't sent home a letter in ages, Mom and Dad are on my ass!" Even with my eyebrows down low in mock anger, I can't help the smile that reaches my face.

"Oh, hey Mare. How long has it been already, a full 48 hours since you last reminded me?" He takes the laptop. I hear Farley squawk in protest in the background. Muffled rustling and Shade's shirt are all I see and hear for a couple seconds while I stare fondly at the screen and wait. Finally, his face fills my screen again. "How's the house holding up without the Barrow boys?"

"Mom doesn't know what to do with herself without having three teenage boys to look after constantly. She's been nagging," I sigh. The chair creaks when I lean back. "Dad's on different medication for his knee pain and Gisa is doing well at her program. She's trying to see if anyone in the Arts District will take her in as an apprentice." He nods slowly and thoughtfully.

"Any luck?"

"Not yet, but it's a big city with plenty of opportunities. She'll find someone."

"And you?"

I bite my lip. Leave it to Shade to bring up the one thing I want to avoid. I've tried not to mention my new school situation too much around my parents. Gisa is excited to go, the freshman that she is, and I don't want to ruin that for her, either. Farley is different. Farley gets why I'm nervous. She was in the same situation, too.

"I'm great." Shade raises a bushy eyebrow.

"You sure, kiddo?"

"Yes. Don't call me that."

He just shrugs, then fixes me with that concerned, warm honey look that so many girls fawn over and my mom melts for.

"You positive? You know you can trust me, right? With anything."

Of course I know. It's Shade.

"I'm doing fine," I smile. "It's just a new school. Sure, I might have to deal with some preppy Silvers, but it's Archeon. I have to do it at some point anyways."

"Remember what I told you!" Farley shouts from off screen. I roll my eyes. My lips betray me and curve into a grin

"Yeah, I know."

"Say it!" I groan.

"Head down, spine straight. But if they try, don't hesitate." I grumble.

"Finish it!"

"...bitch."

"Hell yeah!"

Shade turns back to his girlfriend with a soft grin. "You told my sister a mantra that somehow combines Vine, violence, and actual advice in two sentences?" She shrugs back.

"I love you, babe."

"Oh shut up."

He means it, though. He means it more than anything. I can tell from how his gaze lingers just a little too long and how the smile doesn't slip from his face when he does look back. He really, really loves her. And it's only a matter of time before he proposes.

"Hey listen, we have to go. But good luck tomorrow, okay? I don't know if we'll be able to contact you then," my brother says gently. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, Shade. Really. I'm going to be fine." I wish I believed it.

He does, though, and a sleepy look clouds his eyes. Farley sits next to him.

"Alright, bye kid."

"See you, Mare."

"Bye." The screen turns back. My reflection stares back at me. There are no bags under my eyes, a fact that will change soon. I look messy, what with my hair in truly awful bun and me being in old pajamas, but in less than 24 hours, I'll be joining the elite youth of the east coast. The thought both terrifies me and fills me with a strange hope at the same time.

The laptop closes with a little click. I rub my eyes tiredly and fall back on my bed.

"You got this, Mare," I whisper into the silence. I close my eyes.

I fall asleep to a lullaby of distant cars and rain at my window. A final reminder of where I am, and who I might become soon.

Who knows what's to come?

* * *

Progress updates available on my tumblr (blairistired) under the tag #aa wip !


	2. One Thing to Remember (Mare)

Alright folks, I'm gonna level with you and say that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. I have a vague idea of the plot, but I'm horrible at planning and now you guys are along for the ride so fasten your seatbelts and please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times. Hope you enjoy a very late chapter 2

Fun fact! Oliver Laris, Heron Welle, and Atara Viper are actual characters mentioned in the books.

Thank you to all of you who have shown such overwhelmingly positive support! You guys don't know how uplifting your comments are. They make me so happy, and really keep me writing.

* * *

 _Holy shit_.

Archeon Academy could equally be a castle or an asylum. The intimidation factor is exactly the same. It's built of cool gray stone, with silver metal detailing and shuttered windows. An immaculately trimmed hedge surrounds the courtyard. Tiny red berries sit ripe and waiting on them, the last remnants of a vibrant summer. And in a tower in the back…

Is that... _stained glass_?

"This was a mistake," I blurt.  
"Oh come on," Cameron sighs, "It's not that bad."  
"Easy for you to say. You've been through this already."  
"Whatever." She smiles at me with her hands on her hips and a happy glint in her black eyes. Some of my anxiety knotting in my stomach unravels. "I never thought I'd say this, but I missed you, Mare."  
"Me too, Cam."

She crushes me in a hug. My height squishes my face into the shoulder of her gray academy blazer, though, and I can only wait for it to pass before I can breathe again.

"You didn't even visit! I've been stuck here alone for a year," she scolds. I laugh.  
"I know, Cam, I'm sorry." I pull back. "You look good. Really. And it's been so long since I've seen you." Her face scrunches up in mock disgust.  
"Ugh, let's not be those people." Her eyes drift across the yard. "Where's Gisa? Isn't she a freshman now?"  
"She signed up for pit orchestra, so she's at the meeting." Cameron sighs fondly.  
"She never changes."  
"Well, she's gotten better at cooking, at least."  
"Finally _one_ of the Barrows will be able to look after themselves."  
"Hey! I can make ramen."  
"That's a sad argument."  
"Okay, true."

I can't contain the rare grin spreading across my face. While I have been facetiming and texting her for the past year, nothing beats seeing her in person. It reminds me of years ago, when we would spend days in our cabin at summer camp talking for hours.

"How's everyone? How's Kilorn?" She barely has time to register her mistake before I'm nudging her with what I know is a shit-eating grin on my face.  
"Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up shut uuuu-"  
"Oh, Kilorn? He's fine, I guess. I'm sure he'd be better if you were there~"  
"Ohhh my god."  
"I bet he's pouting right now."  
"Mare will you keep it dow-"  
"I can hear him now. 'Ugh I'm so _alone_! If only I had the _love of my life_ here with me!' "  
She looks away, flushing red, before shoving me off balance. "Hey!"  
"First bell's about to ring. Come on, we'll be late." It absolutely isn't, and we definitely won't.  
"Whatever you say…."  
She forges ahead like a woman on a mission, but even that can't hide her burning face.

I scramble after her ( _damn her long stride_ ), and she doesn't look back when she reaches the top of the stairs.  
"You have homeroom with Lucas, right?"  
Lucas?  
"Mr. Samos. But nobody calls him that," she says, as if reading my mind. "He's the gym teacher. He's super chill. I take his kickboxing elective." Her eyes shine with admiration.  
"Uh, yeah I do. A Samos works _here_?" She just shrugs.  
"Yeah. All of the teachers have some link to the High Houses."  
"So there are more Samos here?" She nods slowly.  
"Yes? Where else would they be?"  
"I don't know…" I look around at the pristine white walls of the front hall. It looks like some sort of ironically minimalist version of the halls of Versailles. This school is a palace, and I do not belong here. "God, this place looks like Marie Kondo's dream."  
"Makes sense. An empty school for empty hearts. But hey, as long as you stay out of the way, the people here couldn't care less about you." A hand goes up to play with her hair. Cam searches my face before a smirk crawls onto hers. "Is Mare Barrow _nervous_?"  
"Oh shut up."  
"She is!"  
"Well I mean…" I gesture to the...everything. She just links her arm with mine and leads to some stairs. More people begin to trickle in through the front door, mostly freshmen, still bright eyed and excited.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm here, and I'll introduce you to some people. Red and Silver."  
I cast her a panicked look.  
"Oh relax," she grins. "Mare, once you've spent enough time here, things start to change. You think differently. See differently. When you meet some of these people, you'll get it." She tells me these things, knowing I am wary and mistrustful. Knowing how many people have been unreliable in our lives, and how many times I've been screwed over. How our towns got screwed over by the people funding this school.

It's only because of that that I bring myself to trust her words. She sees the change in my eyes and the relieved softening of her features is almost worth it.

"You'll see. Our world isn't just Red and Silver anymore."

O-O-O-O-O

True to her word, Lucas is exactly what Cameron made him out to be. He gives me my schedule and does all the polite standard small talk, but it all seems weirdly sincere. It's not at all what I expected from a Samos. The Samos are supposed to be cutthroat businessmen in sharp suits, managing the steel factories that kept the east coast going. Lucas wears sunglasses indoors.

My first few classes pass with little incident. AP Lit was taught by a very patient, middle aged man named Dr. Jacos, who some jocks affectionately called 'DJ.' PE was with Lucas again, then AP Bio with a cold, unenthusiastic man named Dr. Arven who looked like he might drop dead any second.

Then came lunch.

Even though it's way too early to be hungry (honestly, it's 10:45), I fill my tray slowly and with plenty of food to give myself more time. This is what I had dreaded the most. I don't have any relationships with teachers like most juniors, so I can't go and pop into a classroom to hang out and eat. I don't play an instrument, so I can't go to a music room either. To go to the bathrooms would be a) very sad and b) a very bad idea, unless I want to shroud myself in vape clouds.

I turn around and face the cafeteria at last. People behind me begin to walk out and join their friends with big grins on their faces, chattering about their summers in exotic locations. I scan the place for empty tables. I find none.

 _Oh boy. This is great. I'm fitting the new girl stereotype perfectly. Maybe I'll go have lunch with the janitor and complete the image. Gisa is in a different lunch period, too. I know nobody here, how am I supp-_

"Hey, Barrow!" A single familiar voice yells. "To your right!"  
Cameron waves from a couple tables over, seated next to a slender girl with auburn hair. Relief crashes down on me. The lead in my limbs melts away. Her lips curl in a knowing grin as I walk briskly over to her and place my lunch down.

"You saved me," I laugh tightly. "Thanks."  
"No problem. You looked like a lost puppy up there, all big eyes and stiffness," she quips.  
"Oh, shut up." I stab a suspicious looking chicken nugget with a fork and dip it in ketchup. I guess private schools don't get any better food than public schools do.  
"Right. Introduction time." Cameron gestures towards the willowy girl. "Heron, this is Mare Barrow. Mare, this is Heron Welle."  
The auburn haired girl- Heron -looks up with a gentle smile. She gives me a shy wave.  
"It's nice to meet you."  
"You too."  
"You're in my Lit class, right? First period with Dr. Jacos?" she asks.  
"Yeah, actually."  
"You'll grow to like him. He cares about his kids." Though shy, her politeness is weird in comparison to the cold disinterest I've gotten so far. I meet Cameron's eyes.  
' _I told you so,'_ they scream.  
"Yeah, I hope I will."  
Cameron leans back casually. "So, now that we've gotten that over with. First day. Anything you want to know?"

I consider it for a minute. There's a thousand things I'd like to know. But in all honesty, it's been a pretty normal school day. I think that scares me more than anything I imagined for today. For now, though, I decide on a simple, but broad request.

"Everyone's grouped into different tables. Cliques, I'm guessing," I say, waving my fork around. "Tell me about some of them. Either of you two."  
"You want us to the do the Mean Girls thing?" Cameron asks, raising an eyebrow.  
"Hey, if I'm going to be put into this cliché highschool romcom scenario, I'm going to cover all my bases."  
"Fair enough."

Cameron's eyes do a wide sweep of the place. They finally land, and she points over to a table next to a huge window.

"Those are the big guns. Mostly upperclassmen, but the occasional funny underclassman gets the pass. They get the prime spot. Our Plastics, if you will." She jerks her heads towards a brown haired guy in yellow. He is joking with a girl with sleek black hair that I recognize from theatre posters all over the city.

First celebrity spotting, I guess.

"That's Oliver Laris. New captain of the soccer team. Filled the power vacuum on both the team and the school once our old alpha left. He's actually a pretty decent guy, really funny, but he's the definition of a hypebeast. He'll take over the airport once his mom retires."  
"He's talking to Sonya Iral," Heron adds. "Niece of Dr. Ara Iral, the AP Euro teacher. Dr. Iral served in a war, but she won't say which one. Sonya, though, is a dancer. Her family runs the most prestigious dance academy on this side of the country, and she's set to become prima ballerina. She'll run the academy eventually." Cameron pipes up again.  
"Next to Sonya is Elane Haven. Not much to say about her. She's quiet, but hella smart. Everyone knows she's dating Evangeline Samos, but we all pretend to think otherwise, lest Ms. Samos tear us apart," Cam snorts.  
"Sonya, Elane, and Evangeline run the school, " Heron explains. "Oliver is just a figurehead. Sonya and Elane are decent people, but Evangeline..."  
"...is the devil," Cameron barks. "Right there, next to Elane, right at the center of the table looking like she wants to cut a bitch. Probably could, with all the jewelry she wears." I fix my gaze on a pretty girl with long, silver dyed hair. It almost looks metallic, from the way it glints in the sun. It probably costs a fortune to keep that up. Judging from her resting bitch face, she's absolutely bored to death with the conversation. I recognize her, too, from Viper Magazine covers this time. The ever famous cheekbone girl.

Celebrity sighting number two. Farley would be so proud.

"She's queen bee of this school. The Regina George. An absolute bitch. Rich, powerful, young, and flaunts it. Her brother will inherit the Samos business and her cousin will inherit her mom's business, so she's the most eligible bachelorette on the Silver market right now and she _knows it_. Fortunately for her suitors, she'll have to marry into a powerful family to keep living her plush life. _Un_ fortunately for them, she's a lesbian, so she'll never really love them."

I blink. "Can't she just marry an heiress?"  
Heron shakes her head. "The corporate families of Norta only trust their own to run family businesses. Family means blood, and blood is everything, and so Evangeline will have to produce a _biological_ heir to whichever company she marries into. She has no claim to the Viper business, either. She's been raised a Samos. As long as there's a reasonable Viper heir available, she won't be able to touch it, and Atara has no intentions on giving up Viper Magazine."

I'm about to ask how Heron knows so much about Silver internal politics, but then I realize. Welle. The Welle family is one of the so called 'High Houses of Norta,' the most powerful families living in the county. They take care of most of the city's green spaces and run some conservation organizations, making them some of the more decent Silvers. Nonetheless, she is a Silver.

I'm eating lunch with a Silver?  
A Silver's eating lunch with me?  
Huh.  
Weird ass school.

"Any other particular table you want to know about?" she asks softly. Her bright blue eyes are kind, so unlike the Silvers I've met in town. And yet, they could hide so much deception and corruption...  
I glance around to avoid that train of thought. I want to trust her. I want to give her a chance. My eyes stray away from the rings of people clustered around the table of elites and land on some of the loners. The outcasts, who sit in a small, but lively huddles. The quiet ones who don't like the noise and rush of the inner rings.

Oh, and an absolutely _beautiful_ boy heading out.

"There. Right next to the tallest window, with the gray backpack. Who's that?"  
Cameron and Heron exchange quick, loaded looks before she speaks again.  
"You….really don't know?" Heron asks hesitantly.  
"No?"  
"You'll have to excuse her," Cameron sighs, "she doesn't have a life."  
"Cam!"

" _That_ would be Maven Calore. He should be the most powerful person in school, not Oliver, but he just refuses to be a part of it all," Heron explains with a severe look at Cam. "No one really understands why. He's not exactly an open person."  
"And where's he going?"  
"The orchestra room, probably. He's always in there. Practicing…" Cameron scrunches up her face in concentration. "Heron, what's the big violin called again?"  
"The cello. And if you could just _refer to it as such_ -"  
"Would you rather I start calling it the thicc violin again?"

Heron just gives me a tired look.

"Well that explains it," I laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen a cellist that wasn't hot."  
"That's what I've been telling Cam, but she won't listen," Heron hums lightly. Cameron just rolls her eyes.  
"Ignore that, Heron is a complete orchestra nerd. She's been crushing on this one cellist since freshman year." The girl in question turns beet red and swats her arm.  
"Cam!"  
"Well it's not like I told her _which_ cellist! We have plenty!"

"ANYWAYS." The flustered girl turns her attention towards me. "I wouldn't get involved with him. If you can only remember one piece of advice, it has to be that you do _not_ get close with the Calores. They're ambitious, ruthless so. One time, the Titanos family started to thwart their oil industry with electric cars?" Heron shakes her head.  
"The Titanos don't live in Archeon anymore, is all I'm saying." I suck in a breath.  
"Yikes."  
"Yeah."  
"Anyways, you shouldn't really have reason to," Cameron adds. "He's in all accelerated classes. I really doubt you two will have any classes together."  
"Ouch…"  
"I'm just saying!"

The rest of lunch passes by with mercifully light conversation and, by the end, I think have a general idea of what Heron's like. In just 45 minutes, I've learned about her passion for painting, her volunteer hours, her dog, her love of spending time at Welle greenhouses. I almost forgot that she was Silver. How bizarre.  
And when I pack up to stumble my way to my next class, I realize that I...I made a friend. A real one that I don't have to force conversation with. Something that would have taken me months at the Stilts just took me half an hour. The conversation was insignificant. It was just mindless chatter. Entertainment. And yet, it was genuine. Surrounded by the fakest people I've ever seen, I found one of my realest experiences in a while.

I catch Cam's wrist and she looks back at me, confused, before catching my wide eyed expression. I nod, just barely, but she knows. Quick as a flash, she squeezes my hand once, smiles warmly, then leaves.

 _Okay  
_ I take a deep breath and my gaze drifts to the stairs leading to my next class.  
 _Okay._

O-O-O-O-O

"Good afternoon, class, and welcome to the last period of your first day. AP Psychology!"

Thank god. While my other periods haven't been unbearable, I am itching to get home. This class, though, I'm actually excited for.

Ms. Sara's voice is quiet, but the size of the classroom allows it to carry. In fact, everything about her seems muted. She's tiny even by my standards, and her blue-black skin almost blends her in to the chalkboard behind her. The enthusiasm in her voice, though, is very real.

"I am aware that many of you chose this class because you heard it was easy, or fun." Her gray eyes glimmer with humor. "It's true, I do my best to make this class interesting and to give you all good grades, but this is still an AP class. You all will have to treat it as such."  
"On the bright side, though, I got to design the coursework." She winks from her seat on the metal desk. "So you all only have a couple big tests and projects throughout the year. Speaking of which!"

The tiny woman hops off the desk with more energy than I expected. Her flats make a soft padding noise with her stroll down the aisles of the desks.

"You've chosen your seats for now, but soon we'll begin our year-long projects, which will determine your seats for the rest of the year." Groans erupt around the room as friends give each other disappointed looks and others reach for their best friends.

"Alright, calm down, it isn't the end of the world. In fact, by the end of the year, you might have actually become best friends with who you're sitting next to." Obligatory eye rolls ripple through the room. "No, really. For the next week and a half, you'll be putting together a guided portfolio about yourself based on writing assignments and personality assessments. I will go through them and pair you together with someone who may seem radically different at first, but may surprise you with how alike you two really are." She finishes her rounds and reaches the front of the room again. Her steps are languid and purposeful, almost cat-like in their ways. She tilts her head when I meet her eyes. To my alarm, a spark lights them from the back.

"Psychology is, at its core, the study of humans and their relationships. With themselves, and others. By studying your partner throughout the year, I hope you all will learn how to look past the exterior and find what it means to understand and appreciate the complexities of what makes a human." Her gaze bores into me. It looks exactly like Mom's when she thinks I'm not looking. I lift the corners of my mouth in a timid smile and she breaks our stare to reach for a piece of paper on her desk.

"Okay, everybody, day one for your portfolios! Everybody take out the laptops in your desks and let's begin."

* * *

Yikes alright this was a pretty badly written chapter 2 but I wanted to get it out there. Next chapter will focus on what happens after school for another character, and two more make their first appearance! Can you guess who is who?

As for Sara's ability to speak? You'll see why in the future ;)

Signing off,  
Blair


	3. Little White Pieces (Maven)

I could write out a paragraph long apology, but you've all waited long enough for this. I'm sorry.

Whoo chappie 3 let's go

* * *

"Welcome home, Maven."

The sound of the security system grates on my ears. I've heard it one too many times for it to be interesting anymore, but it still hasn't become habitual yet. How annoying.

I close my eyes.  
 _Security is a necessary part of our lives,_ I remind myself irritably, _even if it means this ridiculous AI says that every time I walk through a door._

"Tori, set an alarm for 5 o'clock to do my homework."  
"I will alert your phone at 5:00pm for 'homework'. Anything else?"  
"Check my texts."  
"You have one new text from Tiberias Calore. Would you like me to read it?"

What?  
I stop on my way to the stairs and frown. Messages from Mother, work, and Cal, I expect. Occasionally, I get one from a journalist. But not Father. Never Father.  
Unless, of course, he wants something from me.  
I squint suspiciously at where I know the tiny machine is on the wall. If machines could smirk...

"Yes."  
"It says 'home at 6 o'clock tonight. Expect a visitor.'"

 _From work? I should ask.  
No, that's stupid. I'll never get a reply.  
It is _just _like him to pull this kind of last minute nonsense.  
So, not Father.  
What's the next best option?  
Nanny.  
_By now, this routine is familiar. It barely takes a half second for all the thoughts to flash through my mind. Sometimes, it feels like Nanny is the only thing holding this household together. Well, Nanny and a lot of money.

"Tori, get Nanny."  
"Finding Nanny."  
Three familiar beeps tell me that I'm broadcasting to wherever she is in this house.  
"Hello? Maven?" Her soft voice melts over the sharp edges of my frustration, and the tension from my shoulders loosens. What would we ever do without her?  
"Yes, Nanny, I'm home. Did Father mention anything about a guest?"  
"A guest? Oh! Yes, he did mention that a few days ago. They're joining us for dinner today. Why do you ask?"

 _And he didn't bother to tell me. Lovely._ My lips twist into a grimace I would never let slip outside.

"Father just mentioned it." My fingers trace the familiar wooden ridges of the stair railing. The top comes into view as I climb, as well as my door. Just the sight of it sends a rush of relief through me. "Do you happen to know who it is? A colleague? Is Father planning a deal? Improving relations? Establishing connections?"  
"Sweetheart, I think you're overthinking this."  
"I need to be prepared for my role tonight."  
"The world lost a very fine actor when you decided to pursue business, young man."  
 _As if there were ever any other option._  
"Thank you."

This is exactly what he would do. Always operating on his own schedule, expecting us to follow. He's so damn full of himself, and my-

"Maven." Nanny's voice breaks through my thoughts. But this time, it isn't coming from the tiny speakers placed around the manor. She stands in the doorway of the bathroom just outside my door, brows knit tight and a slight frown on her face. "I know that look. Is something wrong? I know this time of year can be...difficult..."

That's one way to put it.

"...but I'm sure your father didn't intend to stress you out so close to the day."  
"Of course he didn't." And yet I can't be bothered to hide the sour note as I say it. I slip past her into my room. Immediately, my fingers are pulling at the silver tie around my neck and unbuttoning the blazer. Nothing like daddy issues to get the blood boiling.

She doesn't know what to say to that. I bite back another bitter rant.

 _Don't be so selfish._

"I'm sorry Nanny. I didn't mean to snap at you." It only takes a second to become who she needs me to be. I relax my posture a little, shrug off my blazer, and flash the charming smile of a dutiful son and grateful boy. She tilts her head, just a little, but I can tell that it worked.

The next lie slips through my lips like it's nothing. It's old, familiar, and absolutely see-through yet it still works on most people. I don't really know if that says something about me or them.

"Really. I'll be okay. I'm juggling a lot of things at the office and now I have school, too, so I am a little tense. As for that day..." Look her in the eyes. Smile a little. Add some conversational gesturing and it's done. "It's been almost five years now. It's nothing I can't handle."  
"Time doesn't heal all wounds, you know. You can talk to me about it if you need. I just don't want..." Her eyes cloud, remembering a different person, a different time. But I am not her. I will not succumb so easily. _I can't_.  
"It may not, but it lightens the burden." I unbutton the first two buttons of my dress shirt. It finally feels like a can breathe again. "Don't waste your time worrying about me. I'm sure you're busy enough as it is."

She looks down and smiles. Hook, line, sinker. It's all so easy.

"I have to go arrange dinner with the chef. Will you be alright?"  
"Go do what you need to do. I'll be right here."

She nods and quietly pads down the stairs with all the contentedness in the world. I wonder how she stays so calm with so much to do and deal with. Speaking of which...

The papers on my desk sit innocently. Right. Paperwork. Nothing too hard, just some finances and some proposed project files I managed to steal copies of. Father refuses to trust me with anything more than busywork, but I'll take what I can get. Besides, he doesn't really care enough to keep his study locked. Funny how the company he guards so vehemently is so easy to infiltrate.

My hands sift through all the winter projects. Division of funding, ad campaigns, obligatory charity work, ways to outsmart the competition. The pages slip over my fingers one after another, each one more complex than the last, and I breathe. This, I can do, and for a couple hours I won't have to think about...

Against my will, I tilt my head up to my calendar. I never mark it, and every year it creeps up on me like a fog. Cold, dense, dark.  
My fingers grip and crease the paper.

I force my hand to grab a pen and tear my eyes away.  
Finances.  
I breathe.  
I can do that.

O-O-O-O-O

"Dinner is ready."  
"Shit," I hiss. Is it seven already? I completely forgot to see what I'm working with.

 _How could I be so stupid?_

It's fine. I grit my teeth. No use lamenting about it now. Instead, I grab a soft cotton sweater from my closet and pull the green fabric over my dress shirt. I'm stepping into some pants when the security system's voice reminds me sweetly that dinner is being served in five minutes.

"Yes I know, I know." My god, I'm talking to the AI. I'm actually going insane in this house.

I move quickly, quietly, out of my room and to the long staircase. I'll have to improvise this dinner. Not exactly a problem. An inconvenience, nonetheless. No matter. I settle into a familiar routine, my body moving through the motions while I try to puzzle out the evening.

Down the stairs, through the foyer, past the living room.  
Stop right before the short hallway at the mirror.  
Fix your hair. Should've combed it before.  
No use now.  
Smile, but only a little.

I take brisk steps towards the dining room and nod pleasantly at my parents as they come into view. They sit across from each other. My mother looks immaculate as always, but something is off. Her face is stony and closed off. Her hands lie perfectly still in her lap. My father, on the other hand, glows with warmth.

"Good evening Mother, Father..."

Finally, my gaze settles on our visitor.

"Mavey!"  
Cal is up within seconds and, before I can even process that he's back, he crushes me in a bear hug. A stupidly excited grin splits his face in two and I have to stumble back and brace myself against the counter as he tries to crush my lungs. I forgot my brother's tendencies, and he forgets his strength.  
"I missed you," he sighs, rocking back and forth. My fingers fumble into place around his broad shoulders. Mother meets my confusion with a gaze like fire in ice, and I pry him away.

"Cal," I blink. "I thought you weren't visiting until-"  
"Until Thanksgiving, yeah I know." He beams at me until I feel the corners of my own mouth twitching up. How does he do that? "But it's not like this place is too far from uni anyways. I just caught a last minute train to stay here for the weekend."  
"The weekend? It's a Wednesday."  
"Yes. Don't you think it's a little irresponsible to be missing classes so early in the year?" Cal turns to face Mother, but instead, she's fixing Father with a scalding glare. Father does nothing but clear his throat and look down at his food. Wise decision.

"Actually..." He scratches the back of his head. "Dad was the one who recommended I come back. Since I've been taking my classes for a couple weeks, he said he wanted to take me to a meeting?"  
"This Friday." It's my turn to look at Father. He meets my incredulous stare with a blank look. "Father, you told me that _I_ would be going to that meeting."  
"Tiberias." Mother's voice is dripping with venom. Cal glances around awkwardly.  
"You can just take us both, right Dad?"  
"Tiberias, the boy goes to business classes for a few weeks after refusing for years, and you want to take him to a _meeting_? Cal, dear, you aren't ready. Your father should know that."  
"He'll never be ready if he doesn't start participating." My father then turns to my mother. "As for Maven, he'll have many opportunities in the future. He's still a boy, and I wouldn't let a Calore leave this house before learning the basics."  
"Dad-"  
"I will not speak any further on this topic." And to prove his point, he stabs a fork into his steak and begins to eat.

Although the words are kicking behind my teeth, I don't mention how Cal is only two years older than me or that I learned the 'basics' when I was twelve. Or that Cal was forced to learn said basics at seventeen because he hated business or how I've been preparing for this meeting for a week or how it feels like every argument is this short and one-sided or how I know the intricacies of Norta Inc's fall plans to a painfully precise degree. I sit back, close my mouth, and breathe.

"Yes, Father."  
I don't miss the look Cal shoots me, but I pretend not to notice. It says 'I'm sorry' and 'What can I do?' and 'You know how he is' and a million other small pities that I just can't stomach right now. This is an idiotic thing to get worked up over, I know. Father is right. I will have many other opportunities. I am a Calore. One day, I will be managing the company by myself because that's what Calores do. I just have to have patience.

Dinner passes in a tense silence, broken only by Cal's occasional joke or a ramble about university life. He whines about rooming with Ptolemus (who I never particularly liked, but Cal seems to enjoy having as his best friend) because he brought home girls every other day. He talks about a couple blunders in class, a café he's found, and how awkward it is being whispered about. It's not surprising, given that tabloids and magazines like to pry into our lives, but he sounds uncomfortable. Strange how he hasn't gotten used to the attention after all these years.

I half listen. I focus on eating my steak, then excusing myself. I'm halfway up the stairs when I hear Cal's voice bouncing up behind me.

"Mavey! Hey!" He catches up to me in a quick, short bounds. "Hey."  
"Hi. Welcome back," I reply quietly. "I didn't get to say it properly downstairs." He looks away.  
"Yeah...about that. Are you upset? Sorry, I really didn't know." He's bouncing his leg. A nervous tic. An apologetic look is plastered across his face. He's so easy to get worked up. It was fun to tease him for it as kids, but now everything is different. I smile at him to ease his worries.  
"Don't be. It's not your fault. Besides," I shrug, "He's right."  
"That doesn't mean he should have said it like that, though." He punches my arm gently. "He's just...like that sometimes, you know?"

 _Oh, I know._

"Do you have homework left?" He asks, excitement straining against every syllable. I tilt my head.  
"No. Why do you ask?"  
"Well, I don't think I've had any good opponents for chess the past few weeks." He crosses his arms and grins. "Makes a man restless." I smirk back. Our competitive streaks flare to life simultaneously, and a familiar air settles between us.  
"It's hard for any average opponent to measure up." I'm already stepping to his door. "But, as I recall, these past three or so games have all landed in my favor."

He beats me to the door and pushes it open with his shoulder. Not once does he let me out of his sight.  
" _Favor_ has nothing to do with it." Bookshelves, manuals, and flashes of metal fill my vision. Nanny tried her best over the years to keep this room clean, but even she has to give up at some point. It doesn't matter. We both know exactly where the chess set is. Cal pulls it from a shelf and rearranges some history books so that we have enough room on a small table. We both sit on the ground, the way we've done ever since we were old enough to grasp the rules. Years and years ago, we sat the same way as he explained the rules to me and I tried to wrap my mind around it for the first time.  
"I don't like losing," Cal quips at me. He sets his little white pieces down and sorts out my black ones. It's impossible, but the wood feels warm to the touch.  
"Neither do I," I taunt back.

We play for the next couple of hours. I let him win the first game as a welcome back gift, but it soon becomes clear that I'll have to work for my next wins. Thoughts melt away into tactics. Tension turns to laughter. And gradually, I remember why I pushed Nanny to give up on trying to organize Cal's room.

It makes it easier to hide that I still visit.


End file.
